Hamilton

Margi  was talking to Daughter on the phone tonight.  I am very fond of Daughter, who is kind and red-haired and knows how to talk to a bear.  Margi didn't know what to do for the blog, so Daughter told her - let Hamilton do it.  What a sensible person!

Daughter introduced some of my great friends to the House of Stories.  Little Bobby, who holds his arms up, was first spotted by Daughter, and so was Will, a Shakespearean bear from Stratford-on-Avon.  If we ever get bored, we can wake him up and he'll give us a bit of Romeo, or Henry the Fifth, or Touchstone if he wants to make us laugh, but there's rarely a dull moment in the House of Stories.  

You see, if you're a bear, and therefore a Different Sort of Person, you may well meet other Different Sorts of Persons floating around the House from time to time.  I refer, of course, to Characters, her Story Characters, who sort of overflow between her head and the page.  Urchin, Fingal and Crispin, and Needle are all jolly good fun.  The young princess can be a touch excitable, but we know how to handle that.  The most extreme villains - you know who I mean - don't worry us, because they can be dealt with by a hard Bear Stare.  But Aesop's Fables!  She  filled the house with lions, monkeys, foxes and peacocks, and we all opted to go to sleep until she'd finished those.

Speaking of sleep - blogging is so tiring....

(Finish - rather like a fish - Margi x)